


Our Way Out

by Dreamer_Lost



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Angst, Does it count as main charact death if he comes back?, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I cried writing this, I listen to Nico Collins and stories happen okay, I love Harry with Slytherins, I'm Sorry, Kinda, Let Harry Be Happy, M/M, i don't know how to tag, idk why but I do, song-fic, suggestions please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-10 03:41:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21462370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamer_Lost/pseuds/Dreamer_Lost
Summary: Harry and Blaise always planned, dreamed really, of running away to a quiet place where no one knew them and they could just be.Too bad Harry is Fate's favorite toy.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 3
Kudos: 158





	Our Way Out

**Author's Note:**

> I got bitch slapped with this idea while listening to the https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jipQ5uDXdps (how does one hyperlink??) and posted some of it on twitter, kinda like a rough draft/ I need to write this down before I forget kinda thing.  
Now I'm posting it here because, while none of my stuff is well read or liked, if I don't post it I never will.
> 
> Unbeta'ed, all mistakes with spelling grammar, and probably named because I didn't double check, are my own. Point em out and I'll fix it as soon as I can.
> 
> Please Leave a review! Or if this smacks you with your own plot bunny link it to me! I'm more of a reader then a writer, no matter how hard I try.

The two held each other close, hidden in one of the many forgotten rooms throughout the school, sharing air and enjoying the time they could steal together. They first spoke in their second year. One had been hiding from spell fire and the other simply wished for a quiet place where he couldn’t hear the whiny voice of his spoilt housemate. Unable to stand the awkward silence one struck up a conversation and their relationship grew from there. It was agreed early on when they were still only friends that no one should know about their friendship, and once that friendship became something deeper, they knew no one would understand and would fight them every step of the way. Their relationship was kept secret for a very good reason. The Gryffindor's Golden Boy could never be seen with a Silver Slytherin, let alone holding hands and talking.

During and after fifth year, they would hide in the Room for hours, doing homework, teaching each other a variety of things ranging from muggle cooking to Pureblood etiquette, practicing their spell work, read, draw and simply enjoy being in each other's presence. Sometimes they would even fall asleep there, and the Room would wake them early so they could sneak back to their dorms.

They would whisper and dream of the future, after the war, after school, they would run away, build a life in some small town where no one would think to look for them and they could live peacefully. Sometimes it’s in the mountains or near the sea, since Harry had never been and Blaise who grew up in Italy and spent most summers there thinks that is a crime against nature. In a little home just big enough for the two of them with a small  garden that Harry would plant lilies, roses and dogwood and potions ingredients, because with proper instructions and unbothered he could in fact brew decent usable potions. He’d cook in the kitchen with Blaise’s help.

Blaise would draw his lovely little husband doing what he wanted in the peace or read or anything he wanted. Once Blaise explained wizards could become pregnant with the help of a potion, or if their magic was strong enough just from the wish from a child, Harry imagines the house a bit bigger and filled with giggles, happy bright brown and green eyes and messy dark curls and chubby cheeks with Blaise’s dimples and little feet running about the imaginary house and garden. His heart ached with want of his dreams becoming a reality.

Blaise dreams of showing Harry the country he grew up in, all the history and culture and art, teaching him Italian, cooking together, going to the beach because everyone should experience the ocean at least once in their lives. He imagines Harry deliriously happy, laughing and relaxed like never gets to in Hogwarts. Imagines Harry dressed in wedding robes and round with their child.

Then Dumbledore just had to go and die instead of cleaning up the mess he had made by isolating and villainizing Tom Riddle. That was left to Harry. Left to kill the monster Dumbledore made by being a blind fucking fool. 

Tom Riddle had the potential to be great. Instead of nurturing and ensuring he didn’t go off the rails,  Dumbles pushed him off and acted like it was  inevitable that he become a demon, a nightmare.

Forced to run around the country looking for soul shards  and Snatchers , the only thing keeping him sane and going is the thought that once  Snakeface is dead Blaise and him will run off to some tiny Greek or Sicilian or Romina. He had to win, had to live so they could build a life together.

Blaise survives seventh year by keeping his head down, blending in with the stone walls, though he helps Longbottom where he can. He fears every morning that there will be a n article in the Prophet about Harry’s capture, or worse his death. Every night h e prays to any God that’ll listen that his love returns live.

Returning to Hogwarts was more painful then imaginable. He was so close yet couldn’t go to the man he loves. His work wasn’t close to being finished and if he allowed himself to see and be held by Blaise, he wouldn’t be able to pull himself away. He’d stay with Blaise, run and let all of Britain suffer and implode for being full of bigotry.

Then he saw Snape’s memories.

All those half-baked plans, hopes, dreams, wishes died and left Harry hollow. He would never run away with Blaise, never see the country that made the darker man smile just by thinking about it, never marry him, never carry their child. Never say how much he loved him.  Would never see him again.

Because he was never meant to survive the war.

Because he was a Horcrux.

Because for the Horcrux to be  destroyed he had to die.

It would have been much kinder to kill him that night his parents had died, but Dumbledore was much like Slughorn. He collected the discarded, the outcasts, because they made the most loyal soldiers. And Harry had played right into his hands. Now he would have to die so that Blaise and his friends could live.

Harry clutched the Resurrection Stone as he marched through the Forbidden Forest, mind whirling so fast that his own thoughts became white noise in his ears. He had run into and told Neville to kill  Nagini , handing over a letter that Neville swore to deliver to  Zabini once everything was over. He wrapped his cloak around him, vanishing from the eyes of those rushing around carrying messages, fetching potions from the dungeons (how they got into Snape’s potions cabinet he’ll never know, man warded everything to hell and back) and bringing in the dead. He had passed the Great Hall and stopped in his tracks at the edge of the giant door at the sight of rows of dead.

Tonks, Lupin, Goerge was blank and clinging to a limp  _ dead _ Fred as Molly howled, that was little Colin  Creevey with even smaller Denis sobbing quietly beside his dead brother, and that mangled body was once Lavender. There were so many more, children, housemates and vague faces he never got to know but he  _ knew  _ these bodies when they were moving, smiling talking, leering at him, whispering he was a lair, mad or going dark.

Now they were still. They would never move again.

Many would join them if Harry didn’t do his part to end it. All he could see was Blaise, eyes blank and glazed in death. He couldn’t stand it.

Walking on silenced feet he didn’t feel fear of death, just the heartbreak for the life he will never have and determination to keep those important to him alive if he could. He entered the clearing with minutes to spare it seemed, Tom was ordering Avery and  Rowle to go search the forest for him thinking he had gotten lost on his way.  Nagini was coiled around a rock, watching the trees where Hagrid was chained to the forest floor with his brother.

It was so easy to kill her. No one noticed when she went limp nor the green light that killed so many before her. Looks like Neville will only have to deliver his letter. Hopefully, Blaise would forgive him.

When Avery and  Rowle returned to report he hadn’t come, he reveled himself dropping his cloak, the stone and his wand. None of it would help him leave this clearing alive. A flash of green and he knew it be over quickly, painlessly, praying Blaise would live a long happy life.

Blaise had slipped from the common room that had been placed under lock so that the Death Eater parents couldn’t force the unmarked to fight when he had gotten work from one of the few portraits that Harry was in the castle. He searched the best he could without getting caught in the battles throughout the castle. Then he heard The Dark Lord’s ultimatum and knew Harry would do what he thought would save lives.

He ran, looking for Harry desperately when he rounded a corner faster than he should and ran into Longbottom. The man, warrior, leader, blinked before smiling with a confused twisted to his brow.

“Harry gave me this,” he pulled out a letter and held it towards him, “talking about  Voldemorte’s snake and how I had to give this to you once everything was done. I’m not sure I’ll survive either so I might as give it to you now.”

Blaise took it and  immediately tore into it, dread weighing down his heart and making his stomach churn.

_ Dear Blaise, _

_This will be my last letter, and it’s __weird_ _devastating__ unthinkable to think I’ll never see you again. After all the plans we had I never once thought I wouldn’t survive this damned war, but it seems that was never how this was all supposed to play out. From the beginning I was never supposed to live, makes you wonder if all me ‘adventures’ was __Dumbles__ trying to kill me but those are important._

_ What is important is I love you, adore you, and it rips something inside me apart to know we will never get to do anything we dreamed out loud about. Never see the town you grew up in, never marry you, never hold our children or see them grow. Never see you smile at me or kiss you or hug you or hold your hand or talk to you. _

The ink was blotchy in some spots where tears had fallen while the writer and  scribbled the letter.

_ I will be dead by the time you are given this letter. I’m so sorry I didn’t see you one last time before, but I knew if I let myself anywhere near you, I’d grab you and run. Say fuck Britain and hide somewhere on the continent until we died, or Tom Riddle found us and killed me, and possible whatever family we had built. But if we were always looking behind us, I know we could never be happy. _

_ And all I can think about is you dead, and I can’t stand it. _

_ I’m so sorry, love. _

_ Live long and happy, _

_ Harry Potter _

Instead of being sad, Blaise was furious. He was not some damsel in need of saving! They were supposed to fight together, they were going to hold onto each other and leave. But no! Harry had to go play savior and die.

Stomping towards the large doors leading onto the grounds, Blaise planned to find Harry, yell at him, maybe smack him upside that possibly hollow head and fight by his side. Reaching the crowded courtyard, he ignored the possible reason  _ why _ everyone was gathered staring towards the Forbidden Forest in horror, dodging and weaving through the people he saw something that would fuel his nightmares until the day he died.

Harry’s small limp  dirt y body was being carried by a dirty and bruised Rubeus Hagrid led by the Dark Lord and followed by an army of Death Eaters that were smiling in victory and with bloodlust since the war wasn’t over just yet. The world seemed to be on mute, he saw the monster talking, moving dramatically, forcing a hug onto Draco’s uncomfortable frighten self, saw Longbottom wielding a fucking sword with Granger, the younger two Weasley’s step forward and speaking. He heard none of it though.

Then, as if by some miracle, Harry rolled out of Hagrid’s arms, feral smile on his face and a knife in hand. It was the knife Blaise had given him back at the end of second year since he couldn’t steal Harry away from his awful muggles during the summer, he thought the protection spells craved into the hilt would help somehow. 

Striking as fast as a snake, Harry buried the knife into Voldemort's back, lower than his heart since the monster was freakishly tall but Harry  definitely hit a lung, maybe even cut into the stomach to release the acids there into his body. Voldemort stumbled forward form the force of the hit, Harry snarled something quietly and Longbottom lunged with the sword raised.

Voldemort was slain without the magic he so adored, but rather put down like the beast he had become.

Blaise rushed forward before the body could fully hit the ground and had Harry wrapped up in his arms in seconds. He refused to let go as the crowd surged around them, everyone wanting to touch Harry and Longbottom, the Men-Who-Conquered or some rot. Blaise didn’t give a damn about some stupid titled, he cared about the man leaning what little weight he had onto him.

“Hey Blaise?” Harry muttered, to tried from the adrenalin leaving his system and dying to talk any louder. “Can we run away now?”

“Of course, love.” Blaise rubbed his check against Harry’s filthy hair. “But I won’t forget about that fucking letter.”

With a twist Blaise got all others  off of him, with another he apparated them out of there, thanks to the wards still being  destroyed .


End file.
